


Bring the Pieces Back Together

by HanHan_Solo156



Series: We now walk our road together, mein Liebling [2]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of self-harm, Problems with media, Rammstein fans - Freeform, Relationship Problems, Self-Hatred, Stadium Tour 2019, Things not going as expected, meet&greet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanHan_Solo156/pseuds/HanHan_Solo156
Summary: The Stadium Tour is soon going to reach the dusk. Being exhausted both mentally and physically, Richard - the one who handles the stress the worst of them - is about to lose his nerves despite his partner trying his best to cheer him up.The last straw is a bit too nosy fan who manages to trigger the ghosts from Richard’s past back to the surface - and to ignite the ruthlessly curious media’s interest as well.Paul knows it’s his turn to bring the pieces back together and rediscover communication before their relationship starts collapsing.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Series: We now walk our road together, mein Liebling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624369
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49
Collections: Hanhan's Paulchard main series





	1. The Ones Who Wait With Prudence

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, if the first fic of this series was sweet and lighthearted the second one will be totally opposite. I'd suggest you to brace yourselves for heavy angst as it's not going to be easy for the boys here. I'm already a bit terrified for the upcoming parts, but still I promise everything will settle - at first, we have to go through a rollercoaster though. My inspiration for this fic has been Tool's song Schism, so if you want to check out what kind of mood I'm trying to create here, listen to it. It's an awesome song anyway.
> 
> I've felt for a while I want to write something about Meet&Greet and this was a great opportunity to do so - playing with the idea how could it be as I've never attended to one myself. It's interesting to go inside the minds of Rammstein fans and speculate what they would think about the bands' guitarist being together - and also, how the media would react.
> 
> As always, a DISCLAIMER that even though this story has real life references, the events and characters are just creations of my messy imagination, not meant to harm or insult anybody. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for mentions of suicide (no one's gonna die though, I assure) and gayphobia.

~***~

**10.08.2019 Tampere, Finland**

~***~

“Scheisse, so much fucking people in here,” Richard whispered when he opened the door just enough to have a tiny glimpse inside. A bunch of enthusiast fans - lucky enough to have won the Meet&Greet - were desperately waiting in the tight room. Richard wasn’t sure which side was more nervous: himself or his admirers.

Paul put a reassuring hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Relax, only 15, it’s not that bad. The room is small so it just looks like there are more people.” For him, meeting fans wasn’t a big deal - just a brief moment to chat and bring a bit of happiness into their lives: as simple as that. It was sometimes difficult to get inside the mind of the man who was constantly concerned that everyone was going to judge him, no matter what.

Richard closed the door as softly as he could. Leaning against it, he let out a hefty sigh and closed his eyes. “I don’t get what they are assuming to see. What do they want from me? I’m not special so I bet they are just going to be disappointed when I arrive.”

When Paul grabbed the other man’s arms, Richard hesitantly opened his eyes. Paul tilted his head and flashed a reassuring smile. “Just be yourself and it will be fine. Cocky rockstars are in the past, people are nowadays more interested in the real personalities behind the roles - they relate more to normal people like me and you. Casual chats and a couple of autographs are perfect enough to make them content, you don’t have to do anything special.” Paul was in a lighthearted mood and was not willing to start sulking just because Richard was doing so. “And as we have talked million times before, in case there are any haters out there, just tell them to go fuck themselves. But most likely, all of them will love and praise you, as always.”

Richard didn’t meet Paul’s gaze only inches away from his face. Instead, he studied his boots and mumbled: “But… I’m afraid… that I’m not good enough for them.” He bit his lower lip and with a voice barely audible, continued: “I hope it will be quickly over and we can just start playing. Maybe if I just sneak out and you say I’m sick or--”

“Don’t start this again,” Paul interrupted and gently grasped Richard’s chin, making him look at him in the eyes. “I and the others will be there for you, so you won’t be alone. Just trust yourself and us. Surely it will go fine.”

“If you say so I perhaps don’t have a choice,” Richard replied. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

With his thumb, Paul stroked the other man’s cheek. “That’s the spirit. I like this attitude more than your self-pity. In fact, it hurts me when you criticize yourself, so stop that or I’ll get mad.”

Richard was slightly worried the discussion would go too deep so he simply shrugged. “Not sure can I promise that for you Liebling, but what I know is that I need the one last smoke before we expose ourselves to the wolves.”

“Well, maybe wolves are a bit exaggerating, but whatever you say, my love,” Paul muttered by himself in amusement and followed his partner to a secret little spot outside they had just discovered, safe from any possible curious gazes.

They both leaned on a fence, listening to the voices of the semi-big city, accompanied by music and chattering of the excited audience. The vibes were anticipatory: something spectacular was going to happen tonight.

“I have to say this city is ugly as shit. Just dull factories everywhere and so fucking grey,” Richard remarked, interrupting the sensitive mood while he lighted up a cigarette. He handed the lighter to Paul who shook his head this time. “No wonder Finnish people are told to be so depressed. Thank God we can head home straight after we are finished.” 

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. Yes, a dull Nordic industrial city, but doesn’t differ from a German medium-size town,” Paul commented back. It bothered him why his partner had been in a grumpy mood the whole day - a negative aura that only seemed to get tighter around him as the day went on.

Without warning, Paul entwined his arm around Richard’s waist, pulling him closer. “Unattractive cities or meeting fans haven’t bothered you this much earlier,” he said and caressed his lover’s back. “What’s up, Liebling? Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”

Richard hummed silently and relaxed his tense body a bit. “Well, one thing that annoys me is that we sucked last night, to be honest. The magic was gone. I mostly felt like being a tired middle-aged guy and not a world-class musician and shit, that has bothered me the whole day.” The things he had been afraid of seemed to be horrifyingly close getting true: being old, average at best, and most of all, weary. He had always despised artists who were visibly doing their things just because “they had to” and now Richard was convinced that one show gone badly meant their careers were done. 

But as Paul tried his best to be the voice of reason, he started explaining: “I agree that we weren’t the best yesterday, but it still doesn’t mean we suck overall. We all were tired and it was a busy day, so it wasn’t anyone’s fault. We still have today and I’m sure we will kick ass and be even better. We’ll show these Finns what we are made of and maybe they’d be a bit less depressed after tonight.”

“I’d want to believe you so badly, but…” Richard started and sucked in a lungful of smoke, “you know how I tend to think it’s my fault somehow if things don’t work.”

Paul rested his head on Richard’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “Yes, I know and you should know that I’m willing to do _anything_ to stop you thinking like that. I wish there were some magic words I could give you to make you feel better instantly.”

“I know, but can’t help myself sometimes,” Richard said and dumped his cigarette. He finally entwined his arm around Paul’s waist as well. “I appreciate you trying though.” Then, a tiny smile formed on his face and his eyes lighted up a bit. “But you can only blame yourself as you decided to choose the most stubborn man as your partner. This is what you got, so sorry, no right to return the shitty product you got.”

“Well, to be honest, I have no idea why I chose him in the end, but…” Paul raised his head and stated with a smirk: “I’m glad I did.” Pleased with seeing Richard’s confused eyes, he continued: “At least you Mr. _Grumpy_ must admit we had fun last night at the hotel when we decided to skip the afterparty. Best decision _ever_.” Nibbling Richard’s ear Paul was happy to cause a ripple in the other man who struggled to maintain his cool in a public place. 

The answer was just an annoyed grunt, so Paul moved his hand to his partner’s ass then. “The sounds you make in bed are simply…. irresistible,” he growled.

Richard glanced at behind them - he was annoyed when he couldn’t prevent the hot rush on his cheeks and in somewhere lower as well. “Jesus Paul, maybe it’s…” he whispered, “not the most suitable time...”

“And why not?” Paul cooed and tried to kiss Richard at the same time, but the other man backed up and shook his head.

“Just that… if somebody sees us being a bit too intimate it might raise some questions for which I don’t have the energy to answer tonight.”

Disappointed for the reaction Paul narrowed his eyes - his good mood was slowly melting away. “What the hell, did you decide to be ashamed of me?” He crossed his arms and continued: “Excuse me mister, but I just tried my best to console you and now you are suddenly irritated. I don’t get what is wrong with you.”

Richard ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that...”

But the vague explanations didn’t please Paul. “You can now stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what is the real reason behind your behavior - you have been like a bear shot in the ass the whole day. Have I done something wrong to make you just more annoyed, huh?”

Richard looked at Paul with mortified eyes. “I’m sorry. Of course, it’s not your fault.” Then, he moved his gaze to look at the distance. “Now when our… relationship is serious I think it might be… wise to keep a low profile.” He didn’t want to think about what might happen if any nosy journalists would sneak out here. “Just in case. I don’t want anyone to stalk our private lives too much so maybe we should distance each other a bit when we are working.”

“...and what makes you think like that out of a sudden?” Paul asked without bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone anymore. “We’ve been kissing on the freaking stage publicly and now you think when we are just the two of us it’s somehow… embarrassing? That we are just mere colleagues now?” he sneered. “I honestly have no idea anymore what you want as it seems to change every single day.”

“You are now putting words in my mouth. If you would have listened to me instead of just being angry you would have heard I clearly said I _didn’t_ mean anything like that,” Richard said. “Technically, we are still in a concert venue, thousands of people around us.”

“So what?”

“So, if someone just bumps into us and sees us snuggling or whatever they might think about it a bit... weirdly.” Richard rubbed the nape of his neck and glanced around. “I don’t want any weird gossips that could set our careers in danger.” _Or more so, I just want to protect you at any cost,_ he almost added out loud.

Before Paul could answer anyhow, just like ordered, a security guard appeared. “Jesus, I thought you had vanished into thin air.” He glanced at the two guitarists: the other one looking concerned while the other one upset. “Everything… ok here, did I interrupt something?”

“Alles ist perfekt,” Paul answered with a voice so bitter that even the security guy realized there was something fishy going on. 

When their interrupter didn’t say anything further, Paul burst out: “Did you actually have something to tell us or are you just staring there?” 

The startled man didn’t dare to ask anything further though so he just nodded and started to babble: “The Meet&Greet will start in a couple of minutes. Till was worried that you have gotten lost, so just get there as soon as possible, please.”

When the guy was gone Richard was about to say something, but Paul just turned his back and left, not announcing his exit anyhow. 

Richard rolled his eyes. _Okay, maybe I was a tiny bit ass towards him, but that was unnecessary._ He swallowed hard - another smoke would have been heavenly but there wasn’t time anymore. _Have to talk to him properly later._

When Richard stepped back inside the concert venue the unsettled argument started to trouble him more - it was an annoyingly tickling feeling at the bottom of his belly. And what was worse, there was no sign of Paul anywhere. _Fucking fuck. I hope this day would be over soon._ Richard tried to remain normal for the sake of the fans and assured himself they would talk and settle things with Paul later. They _had_ to. What Richard wanted the least was to play in a bad mood.

In the corridor, he stopped for a second and closed his eyes, trying the breathing techniques he had learned ages ago while he was in therapy to ease the constant anxiety. 

He relaxed his tense body and focused on his breathing, but when he opened his eyes again, he sighed. _Still feeling like shit, but no can do now._

The same door from that Richard had glimpsed the fans only a moment earlier was now in front of him. Nervous chattering could be heard inside. 

_Okay, the others must already be in, so I guess I just step in and see how it goes. Only 15 minutes, can’t be that bad._

Holding his breath Richard entered the room.

All the people stopped their talking and instead turned to look at the person who had come in. Slowly, they started to realize who it was. 

“Oh my fucking god, it’s… it’s really _him_!!!!”

The atmosphere of the room was set on fire: some fans started screaming while others just froze to their places, not sure how they should react.

Richard bowed his head and smiled awkwardly when the people in the room circled him. What he had thought was that the other guys were already there but seemed like he had been the first one to enter. _Great._ Normally he could enjoy the attention towards himself, but today it was extremely difficult trying to be nice. He hoped his bad mood wasn’t going to be visible, so he forced himself to act friendly. “So, is... everyone having... a great time?” _Shit, you are being so fucking witty today Richard..._

No one answered, but a couple started to chatter with each other silently - it could be heard though. “Jesus, I wouldn’t have imagined how awkward he is in real life,” a woman whispered to her boyfriend and examined the guitarist from head to toe. “And to be honest, he looks much shorter than in pictures...”

Richard cleared his throat and acted like he hadn’t heard the comments. 

A woman, who was responsible for the security of the event, shouted: “Form a line and as I told you earlier, you can ask for an autograph for one item of your choice. One picture per person allowed. You have 15 minutes.”

Without Richard noticing it, one by one, his bandmates also appeared. Richard moved to the first girl in the vague line in the tight room. The timid girl had the new Rammstein album in her shaky hands and when she tried to hand it to Richard, she dropped it to the floor. She didn’t react anyhow though: instead, she just kept staring at the man in front of him, mouth wide open. In her mind, she had practiced what she wanted to say to her long-time idol, but now when the moment had finally come, she had frozen utterly.

Richard flashed a sweet smile. “I guess you might... have dropped something.” He crouched to the floor and took the album. “What is your name?”

The girl was shaken from her thoughts. She glanced at Richard quickly and then focused looking at the wall behind the guitarist. “Aa, yeah... s-sorry,” she mumbled and took a deep, shaky breath. “W-well…”

The poor girl still couldn’t form a coherent sentence in her distress, but luckily her friend next to her was eager to help. “Her name is Jenna. This morning the only thing she could do was to talk about this event, so just sign the damn album and she will be eternally grateful.”

Richard chuckled when Jenna leered at her friend murderously. “Of course. I’m flattered to hear that,” the guitarist said and in seconds, his neat handwriting was on the cover of the album. “There you go. I hope you enjoy the concert.”

After the first encounter, the autograph session went on surprisingly quickly. To Richard’s relief, it wasn’t so bad even though the slightly rocky start. For that couple who had commented in the beginning, Richard just quickly signed their stuff and didn’t say a word. Maybe he would be considered rude later, but whatever. 

Next one was a middle-aged woman holding an A3 sized poster. When Richard was in front of her she didn’t say a word - just kept grinning like an idiot, swaying back and forth. She had difficulties to keep her balance.

The bitter smell of alcohol revealed what this was about. _Great, haven’t we told a thousand times to the staff that inebriated people are not allowed in the signing sessions?_ Richard thought but still took the poster. _Whatever, let the drunken lady get her autograph then when she already managed to get her ass here._

As quickly as he could, Richard signed it and didn’t even mind how crappy his handwriting looked. “There you go, enjoy the concert,” he said in automation hoping to get rid of the piercing gaze. Something about this woman made him uneasy - and it wasn’t just the fact she was visibly drunk as a lord.

But the lady didn’t take the poster back or wanted to let the guitarist go that easily when she was finally here. Instead, she grabbed Richard from his arm and dragged him right next to her. “Richard, I just need to know one thing…” she whispered to his ear with an unnecessarily husky voice. “I’ve just heard rumors and I need to hear the answer from you straight.” She let out a burst of laughter that sounded more cruel than humorous. “I just… I don’t want to believe it…”

 _Is she trying to hook up with me or what the hell?_ “Umm, okay?” Richard’s day had been weird enough: first, getting his partner upset and now being a target of a harassing fan. _Fucking great, can only wonder what is going to happen next._

“You and Paul are you… are you guys… fucking each other?” she asked straightforwardly - no one else reacted though so luckily, the words hadn’t been heard by anyone else.

Richard blinked his eyes in confusion and stared at the lady who was only inches away from his face still. “S-sorry, but I have no idea what you mean now, you must have mistaken me for someone else...”

Paul on the other side of the room heard Richard’s stuttering and turned to look at the situation. The horrified face of Richard, only inches away from an unknown woman, made Paul uneasy. _Okay, that doesn’t look promising. He was already stressed so this is definitely not good._ _Not at all._ The fan with whom he was discussing wanted to take a picture, but Paul decided he would go straight after to check what was going on.

Richard’s heckler kept being stubborn. “Stop pretending you don’t understand what I meant: I asked are you and your colleague _fucking_ each other,” she spat out. “I’ve always admired you, but this thing between you guys… it’s… it’s fucking disgusting.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed - the unknown woman was getting too close to his skin now. He shook himself off from the tight grip and stepped back. “Look, to be fairly honest, my personal life is none of your business,” he stated with a firm voice, “and leave Paul alone from your freaking speculations.”

“It’s fucking obvious so don’t you dare to lie to me,” the nosy fan hissed, not willing to stop. 

Now when Richard looked at the woman more thoroughly, her pupils seemed to be wide and her eyes were red. _Is she... high or what?_ Whatever she had taken before, it didn’t justify the rude behavior.

Richard knew he’d had enough of this bullshit already - this kind of situation was what he had been afraid of. “I have no idea what the hell are you talking about, but my private life doesn’t belong to you anyhow, so just shut up and take care of your own business!” The exclamation was louder than he had meant it to be. “Say whatever you want from me, but for Christ’s sake leave Paul out of this, he hasn’t done anything wrong!”

The girl turned pale and stepped back, raising her hands. “Hold your fucking horses man...”

In the end, Richard tore the fan’s poster in a million pieces. “Well, _fuck_ off!” he hissed before he left, slamming the door dramatically behind him.

Everyone in the room was baffled. Schneider and Paul shared a look, the drummer raising an eyebrow, signaling _what the fuck was that?_ Paul just shrugged. He was somehow feeling guilty when he hadn’t reacted before the situation had escalated. As he had only heard words from the discussion from here and there, he could only wonder what had made Richard so enraged.

Forcing a faint smile, Paul cleared his throat and said: “Alles gut, we’ll continue normally still.” 

The security guard guided the woman finally away from the session. Before she was away though, she pointed at Paul and yelled: “I know what you guys are up to and I don’t support it! Fucking queers, they are everywhere nowadays, wanting their rights!”

“Umm, okay…” Paul mumbled and witnessed when the woman was literally kicked out of the Meet&Greet session. They had encountered creepy fans before, but this was some advanced level stuff. It was the first time when anyone from their band had walked away from signings.

 _Okay, how fucking great, this shitstorm is the last thing we needed_ , Paul thought. _Have to keep going on though_. He kept acting like nothing had happened. “Okay, who’s next?”

When almost 15 minutes had passed, the last person who hadn’t gotten his autograph yet was a young man. He had black hair covering his face, multiple earrings, and heavy eyeliner around his dark brown eyes. Handing Paul a folded paper, he asked: “Could you… please sign this for me?”

“Natürlich” Paul said and took the paper in his hand and opened it, revealing a drawing of all six of them. It faintly looked like from one of their old photoshoots, but as it clearly wasn’t a mere photograph Paul couldn’t recognize where it was from. “I haven’t seen this before, where did you get it?”

The guy didn’t meet Paul’s eyes when he stammered: “I… I… drew it… myself.”

Paul’s eyes widened and he moved his gaze from the picture to the artist himself. “Did I… hear correctly? You made it yourself?” he asked and looked at the picture again now more carefully. “Wow, it truly is a... fucking masterpiece.” Paul wasn’t meant to swear out loud, but the picture was so terrific that the f-word suddenly slipped from his tongue. “Honestly, I have rarely seen anything like this. Wow, just simply wow.”

He waved to Schneider who was still in the room while the others had left already. “Come here, you should take a look at this!”

Without asking anything further the drummer came next to Paul and took the drawing in his hands. “That’s pure talent indeed,” Schneider said and beamed. “Well done. You are very gifted.” At the same time, he wrote his autograph next to the drawing of him. Marveling it for a second, he handed the paper back. 

“T-thanks,” the guy stuttered back. He hadn’t expected this kind of reaction - all he wanted were autographs from his favorite band. Maybe he shouldn’t have said out loud that the picture was made by him.

“What’s your name?” Paul asked.

“I’m... Lukas.”

Paul gave a tiny hug to Lukas who had frozen to his place. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Y... eah,” the boy answered and gulped audibly, still not realizing what was happening. He had been too shy to ask for an autograph from Till, Flake and Oliver to his drawing and Richard had left before he’d even had a chance. “Pleasure to meet you… too.”

They withdrew and Lukas wiped his glossy eyes - he was thankful for the surprising reactions. “It… seriously means a lot to me to meet you guys.”

Unfortunately, the time was running out so Paul had to quickly write his autograph and a smiley next to it. Then he handed the picture back to its owner. “There you go. I wish you enjoy the concert!”

Lukas nodded. “Say greetings to Richard from me. A pity I couldn’t get his autograph this time. People are annoying and nosy sometimes. I’m sorry for him.”

“It’s okay, it happens. I’m sure Richard is ok as well, just a bit stressful situation,” Paul replied and smiled, trying to sound convincing.

An awkward silence fell upon them and Paul noticed Schneider had left already. Paul checked the clock on the wall: 15 minutes had flown incredibly fast once again.

“It was extremely nice to meet you and I wish you continue with your art. You are very talented,” Paul said and was about to turn around.

Gathering his courage before it was too late, Lukas burst out: “Wait!”

When Paul turned, the boy continued: “There’s… one more thing. If you still have time, of course.” 

Paul raised an eyebrow and came back. “Yes?”

Lukas dug out an envelope from his backpack and handed it to Paul with trembling hands. “If it’s okay to give you this… this is for you.”

Paul took the thick envelope and examined it with curiosity. On top of it was written with neat handwriting: _Für Rammstein, mit ewiger Liebe._ “Thank you very much. Can I ask what is inside?” 

“Something I wrote for all of you,” Lukas replied. “I just hope no one else will see it besides you six.”

Paul put the envelope in the pocket of his jacket and patted the place. “I always read all of these and I assure you it will be safe in here.”

“T-thanks,” Lukas managed to say. “I-I guess the time is out and I’m sorry for lingering you for this long, but it was a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Thank you and I hope you are having a good time tonight.”

Lukas glanced at Paul for the one last time and dared to flash a smile, his eyes glimmering a bit. “I will. Same to you.”

Then the boy was gone and it got eerily silent after the hassle of the Meet&Greet session.

A bit further away and alone Paul couldn’t help it but sit down and check the letter immediately even though he was supposed to get ready for the evening’s concert - and still, he didn’t have the slightest clue where Richard had disappeared. 

The curiosity won over though so Paul opened the letter and started reading.

_Dear Rammstein,_

_I struggled to write this and I apologize beforehand if it’s too cheesy - but for whatever reason, now when I had the chance, I must express my feelings towards you._

_My name is Lukas and I have admired you since I was 10 (I’m 25 now) and heard Du hast from car stereos during a family trip. My parents thought your music was horrible cacophony while I was hooked instantly. I have always hated popular music and hearing your song with dark lyrics out of a sudden from a mainstream radio station was such a refreshment._

_Not only being fond of your musical talent, but I also have to say your band as a whole has a special place in my heart for several reasons._

_I try to keep this short, but I must tell you about my life that used to be such an agony. It started out already in elementary school where I was heavily bullied as a kid. I was always the weirdo of the class, that little boy everyone thought deserved to be mocked and left alone. Losing the hope of receiving any kindness and compassion, I learned how to hide my feelings and managed somehow to survive day by day. It worked for a while, but it had a bitter price._

_What was the worst, I realized in my puberty that my sexual interest was towards the wrong gender. I prayed for it to be changed, I was ready to do anything, but it was impossible to reverse. I was only interested in men even though how hard I tried my best to be “normal” (I btw hate that definition and love it how you twist and challenge what we consider normal). The realization was that I was gay from head to toe - and how much it ate me inside._

_One of the solaces was (and still is) Rammstein_ : _with you, I felt we were in the same team kinda and I have nothing to be ashamed of. Isn’t it funny how we don’t even know each other yet you seem like my old friends? I also admired - and still do - how you have gone through so much shit, but you still are sticking together and couldn’t care less what the others think. That is something I admire and want to go towards myself as well: appreciate myself as I am and not forcing to change for something the others want me to be._

_But yeah, anyway, as I said, music was one of those things that kept me going through those horrible years. But the difficulties didn’t end there: as I grew older, depression and anxiety hit me hard in the guts. I had learned at a very young age to bury my feelings and even if it managed to save me through school years, it wasn’t working for long. After I (merely) graduated from high school I spent most of my days playing computer games at home, isolated from everyone. I was sure I was just a burden to my family and everyone around me contrary to my brother who I envied. He had succeeded in life and I was sure my parents were embarrassed by me as my life didn’t have any direction or meaning. It was just grey overall._

_So, after trying several antidepressants and failed therapies that ended up me getting sick of diagnoses and analyses about what was wrong with me, at the beginning of this spring I made a decision: I wanted to end my life._

Paul hadn’t noticed how tense he had turned while reading the letter: the unknown young man was opening up this personally to him. _Oh my fucking shit._

He blew his nose and with shaking hands, kept going on, totally mesmerized by the text.

_The decision to commit suicide sounded only rational. I had once read that if an animal in its flock feels like it’s just being a burden to its community, it chooses to die silently all alone. That was exactly how I felt: I had nothing worth living for and no one cared about me, so it was just logical to disappear from this planet._

_The only thing that troubled me was that I had won the Meet &Greet with you guys and was supposed to attend five of your concerts this summer. I almost backed up from my plan and thought for a while whether I should move my final decision to autumn. Being so stubborn and sure I was right though, I just left the concert tickets in an envelope in my room, hoping that my brother or someone could use them and have the joy of experiencing your awesome concerts. _

_The day when I was about to make my final decision I listened to all of your albums. It gave me some weird solace and also, made me_ **_feel_ ** _something after so many years in the dull darkness of my fucked-up psyche._

_I had decided to commit suicide by getting crushed by a train. So, that evening, I put my headphones on, lied on the rails all alone, and waited for the train to come. As my last song I decided to listen to Mein herz brennt - my nightmares would soon be over, I thought._

_But as you know, I’m now alive and almost well and I’d say one of the reasons was that song. When I listened to it, something snapped inside me. I felt like years of prohibiting my feelings, my inner pain and sorrow, started pouring out. I felt_ **_alive_ ** _again and it scared me shitless - I didn’t know how to deal with basic human emotions anymore._

_The first time in ages, I cried. I cried and yelled, my anger, sorrow, frustration, basically everything, coming out at once._

Paul put the paper aside and covered his mouth with his hand. _Holy fucking shit. So… raw feelings._ This was one of the greatest compliments he had ever gotten: they had actually _saved_ someone’s life.

How much Paul wished there would be a way to thank the boy personally, but he was already gone.

Taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes, Paul wanted to finish.

_I realized there was still hope: a glimpse of hope you had shown me through your music. The message was clear: yes, life can be a bitch sometimes, but together we can go through it. We all have the right to be sad and frustrated - better days will come, but in the meantime, don’t bury your feelings._

_Just before the train came I climbed out of the rails to safety. It passed right next to me and that moment I just somehow knew I had to call my brother with whom I hadn’t talked in months. I needed help I couldn’t have ever dared to ask for without you._

_I guess I could say you have basically saved my life, so thank you for that. I’m so glad I’m going to see you this summer - something to wait for. The path to cure is long, but at least I have now realized I don’t have to walk it alone anymore._

_And why I gave this to you Paul is that you and Richard are such role models for me. I don’t have the slightest clue - and it’s not my business anyway - are the rumors about your relationship true, but at least I admire your courage so much. I hope one day I could be as open about myself as you guys._

_With eternal love and appreciation,_

_Lukas_

Hot tears burning his eyes, Paul buried his face in his hands. _What a story. Fucking fuck. Poor boy, I hope he is fine now._ His own stupid problems seemed nonchalant now - he had never been as low as the boy despite having difficulties, of course.

When Paul raised his head and kept looking at the empty corridor he realized he must go and find Richard - even with the risk of the continuation of the earlier childish tantrum - because this _had to_ be shown to him.

~***~

Searching in every nook and cranny, Paul almost gave up when he finally saw a figure huddled in a corner who was playing mindlessly a random riff.

“Thank God. I thought you had fled and we had to hire someone from the staff as your substitute in the last minute,” Paul said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. He stood in front of Richard, his arms crossed - like a teacher scolding his student. “The guys were wondering where the hell are you, why weren’t you with them? And what happened earlier when you left the Meet&Greet with such drama?” He bombed the other man with questions.

Richard shrugged and kept fiddling the fretboard even though nothing that would make sense came out of the instrument. It was more like a stress toy than actual playing.

Irritated for his partner’s cryptic behavior along the whole day, Paul snorted and took the guitar away from Richard’s hands.

Eyes wide, Richard moved his attention to Paul. “Hey, that was unnecessary.”

Paul put the guitar aside and sat right next to the other man. “I asked you questions and you didn’t answer, so I apologize when I have to use cheap tricks if you can’t talk like adults.”

Staring at the dull wall in front of them, Richard mumbled: “For… reasons.”

Paul slowly turned to look at his partner. “Don’t start this again, please. What happened at the autograph session that made you this upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

Paul cupped both of Richard’s cheeks and looked at him straight in the eyes. “You are the lousiest liar in this universe, so stop it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Richard replied vaguely and blinked his eyes. It irritated him how Paul could read him like an open book.

“Yes, it _does_ matter. You are notably hurt, so I’m not going to accept what you say, I’m afraid.”

“We are about to play soon so can we… talk later, please?” Richard still tried to save himself.

Hesitating for a moment, Paul let Richard go and leaned back against the wall again. “I just have a weird feeling about all this.”

“What do you mean with ‘this’ and ‘a feeling’?”

Paul turned to look at Richard. “It just seems like you are distancing yourself on purpose from me.” Behind gritted teeth, he added: “And to be honest, I don’t like it. Actually, I _hate_ it.”

Richard remained silent and focused on fiddling with a pick between his fingers that Paul hadn’t taken from him earlier. “I’m terribly sorry then that I’m not like you expected me to be,” he stated bitterly, voice breaking a bit.

Paul sighed and closed his eyes - this was going nowhere. “Why do you have to take everything always so fucking personally? Of course, I didn’t mean to attack you, you are now assuming things.” He opened his eyes and turned again to look at the other man who was still playing with the pick, acting nonchalant. “I just want to know what the hell is going on. Or am I not allowed to be worried about your wellbeing, huh?”

Richard shook his head and put the pick into his pocket. “There was just this one woman in the session who… said things I didn’t like. She was coming too much on my skin and as I was already having a bad day, I snapped or something. I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t be reversed anymore. I just hope there won’t be any future consequences for us.”

“Yeah, she was screaming something weird about ‘fucking queers’ to me when you had left. But what exactly did she say to you then?” Paul asked, annoyance turning into worry. “Fans tend to be weirdos sometimes. Whatever she said shouldn’t be taken too personally. We can’t please everyone.”

“How many times I have heard that ‘don’t take things too personally’ shit,” Richard said, “and how many times I have realized it’s easier said than done.” He leaned back against the wall and blinked his eyes. “And yes, she said nasty things about me… about both of us, actually. And asked questions I didn’t want to answer.”

Paul took Richard’s hand in his. “Whatever she was up to is now in the past, doesn’t matter.” Then he looked at Richard with almost begging eyes. “Please, just promise me that you wouldn’t distance yourself from me. I understand if you don’t want to speak about it now, but I just want you to know that you can tell me anything.” 

Stroking the hand, Paul didn’t get an answer from the other man. “Richard, are you listening?”

Richard barely nodded. In his mind, there were a lot of things: it was such a mess. How much he hoped he could tell Paul about what he had been feeling recently: the uncertainty of the tour being soon finished and all the stress around it; all the stress around what people thought of them. Had the tour been a huge success or a failure? What were people gossiping about them on social media? When someone happened to burst out something bad about him, Richard remembered that particularly well even though there would be hundreds of people praising him at the other end. 

And recently, it had troubled him what would happen if their relationship would be officially revealed to the public. Would either of them be in danger in that case? What they had learned through the years was that the media had the power to ruin someone’s life.

“Damn, at least give me a freaking kiss if you are not willing to talk,” Paul interrupted his partner’s train of thought. “Or are you still ashamed of me being around you?”

“I never was,” Richard said and unexpectedly, dragged Paul from the nape of his neck to his lips even though he knew the risk of being seen.

Paul let out a surprised, yet pleased, gasp. _Fuck, how much I have missed him._ Tears burned his eyes a bit. _Come back to me, please._

When they let go they still were only inches away from each other’s faces, foreheads touching. “Promise me you will forget that stupid woman for tonight and concentrate on what you are the best at,” Paul said.

Richard forced a tiny smile that didn’t meet his eyes though. “I’ll try my best, but only for you.”

“That’s lovely to hear.” 

Then, Paul remembered what he was supposed to show. He took out the letter from his pocket and handed it to Richard. “But before we go, I’d suggest you take a look at this.”

Taking the thick envelope in his hand, Richard raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Read and you’ll see why you matter - and not only to me.”


	2. The Show Must Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After six months of hiatus, I finally managed to figure out how to continue this story and series. Hopefully there still are some readers out there. :D

A concert for a musician is as essential as the air he breathes. The energy, the vibes, the waiting, even the stress - those things he is going to miss when he is back in his everyday life _._ Just like soldiers returning from the war one could ask is a musician even able to live a normal family life after all he has experienced? The feeling of dropping back down from the podium to reality might be the worst thing one could possibly know. Some can’t even handle it and end up sinking themselves into the ruthless, dark world of drugs, alcohol, one night stands, and all other sins. Richard wasn’t a saint either, he could admit - he had tried all of those back in the days, to fulfill that emptiness in his soul. But right now, that misery was gone, just a vague memory in the back of his mind.

Just about to step into the stage, the adrenaline pumping in his veins, Richard felt he was _alive,_ ready for anything _._

Even though how bad this day had been - upsetting his partner and the incident with the fan in the Meet&Greet - all his concerns vanished into thin air when he saw the enthusiasm of the sea of people in front of him. The guitarist took a deep breath, admired the sight - he knew he was privileged to see this over and over again. 

Behind his back Schneider’s drumming sounded like a machine gun - tight, precise, and full of the pure discipline rockstars rarely possessed. Schneider’s ability to be so on time had always amazed the whole band - maybe it was his military background. Who knew, but nonetheless, he was an amazing player. Richard was more than happy to be his bandmate.

While Richard started the riff he could remember even if he was woken up in the middle of the night, he glanced at the endless amount of viewers. Men, women, youngsters, elders: all kinds of people were gathered there. Despite their differences, they had something in common: a love for the same band. 

_Eine Richtung_

_Ein Gefühl_

_Aus Fleisch und Blut_

_Ein Kollektiv_

The letter Paul had shown him was still in Richard’s mind. The writer was there somewhere amongst the screaming and jumping audience. A young guy had reversed an attempted suicide because of… them? Because of this band, they had formed as a joke almost in the early ‘90s? Just a bunch of young, bitter guys who had just been freed from the confinements of DDR? It was insane trying to comprehend where that decision had led them after all: to the biggest stages and sold-out venues in the world - and that meant so much for the fans as well.

When Flake stepped on the stage, followed by Paul who looked at his partner briefly - was he even smiling a bit? - Richard continued feeling sensitive. Was it that he was getting old or why did he feel like this? In their early days, it had been just messing around, having a bit of fun, and provoking people - make them question. Now though, on their biggest and craziest tour this far, the bond with the audience was almost spiritual.

Richard didn’t know what he would be doing if he wouldn’t have a chance to do this with the best people in the world.

With loud cheers and applause, Till stepped on the stage. 

_Ich kann auf Glück verzichten_

_Weil es Unglück in sich trägt_

_Muss ich es vernichten_

_Was ich liebe, will ich richten..._

That moment Richard was sure he had everything he needed. A rare moment of living in the exact moment.

~***~

Sweaty, dirty, tired - but nevertheless, content. Even being high without any drugs. Those were normal feelings after a successful concert. If last night in Tampere had been a bit stiff and lacking of energy, this other concert had been their chance to show the Finnish audience what they were made of - just like Paul had said. Richard now had to admit he had been too stubborn to believe they had lost it - a single concert gone not so well didn’t mean their whole careers were ending. On the contrary - after a lame night, a successful concert felt even better.

The funny thing was that everyone got extremely cuddly after the show. Even Flake and Till were sharing a drink and hugging each other while they were talking unusually loud. When Richard was putting his guitar back into its bag, a million things swirling in his head, he was interrupted when firm, familiar arms grabbed his waist and turned him around.

“So, how do you think we did this time?” Paul asked and pressed his partner tightly against his body. “Are we still ‘shitty and old’ in the opinion of our master guitarist?”

Richard rolled his eyes and let out a dry burst of laughter. “I never said that,” he claimed and cleared his throat. “But yeah, you are right. We were pretty damn good.”

Paul glanced at Richard in the eyes, like searching for was his partner speaking the truth or just flattering. The softening of his features revealed he had found what he wanted, so Paul leaned closer. “Without you, it wouldn’t have ever been that _perfect._ Thank you.”

“L-like… wise,” Richard stuttered back. He regretted how he had been so grumpy earlier the day and had tried to tell Paul not to touch him when other people were seeing. _Damn_ , how wrong he had been. More than anything, Richard needed this. He hoped they were soon heading back home, so they could finally have some time together with Paul. To have time to talk properly - and preferably, something more physical as well.

No other useless dialogue was needed when their lips clashed together. With that, the last remains of the day’s earlier gloominess were melting away. Paul let out a deep, growling sound from his throat and placing his hand on Richard’s nape, deepened the kiss. A terrific concert, shared with an even more terrific partner - what else could Richard even ask for? Sometimes he even questioned whether he deserved all this.

How did he dare to complain earlier?

When they withdrew, Richard whispered: “I… apologize for being an ass earlier. I… I think I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Paul just smiled and nodded, before they were interrupted - their drummer had come out of nowhere. He put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and asked: “Can I have a kiss too?” 

Paul turned around and saw how Schneider blinked his eyes and looked at his old friend under his eyelashes. It looked ridiculous.

Richard and Paul glanced at each other before bursting into manic laughter. 

“Whatever, have your fun then,” Schneider muttered by himself when he turned his back. He hid his little smile, pretending to be busy with packing his stuff. When he had a chance to tease their two little lovebirds, he refused to miss it.

The tour manager came to the room where the cheerful atmosphere was still present. “Guys, half an hour, and then we are heading to the airport,” he announced with an official voice. “A couple of days of rest and then it’s Stockholm’s turn.”

Unlike yesterday, tonight they were going back to Berlin for the night. It was a relief to be back home for a couple of days. Richard proceeded with packing his stuff when Paul didn’t let him go yet. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” he purred to his partner’s ear.

Richard stopped immediately what he was doing. ”I was scared you weren’t going to ask that.”

Always happy to get what he wanted, Paul squeezed Richard’s shoulder. “See you on the plane then.” Whistling by himself he left to take a quick shower before it was time to go back home.

~***~

Just merely Richard managed to open the door of his house when Paul already threw himself over a comfortable leather sofa like a cat who had decided this was his place now. “Ahh, finally at _home_.” It was close to 4am but neither of them could sleep - there was still a lot of adrenaline after the concert. “I’m so sick of hotels. Thank God we were able to come back to Berlin tonight.”

Richard smiled and left his luggage on the entryway before he joined Paul on the sofa. He ran a hand through his still sticky hair and yawned. “Sometimes I wonder if we are madmen when we do this. Middle-aged guys, touring around the world while other people of our age are already thinking whether they should drink their retirement mojitos in Hawaii or in Majorca.” He stretched his arms and let his mind wander. ”We are so far away from that.”

Huddling closer to his lover, Paul asked: “If you could change anything about how your life has gone on this far, what would it be?” He then made himself comfortable and placed his head on Richard’s lap while lying down. When he looked up at his lover he had his signature curious gaze with a hint of the show make-up still on his face he didn’t have a proper time to wash off.

“Change something in my life?” Richard asked with a raised eyebrow and automatically started stroking Paul’s short hair. ”Why are you asking at 4am in the morning?”

Paul shrugged. “I guess I’m just curious. Would you rather do this what we are doing now or be just an ordinary family man?” His eyes were still fixed on Richard’s. “Do you regret anything?”

Sighing and leaning back on the sofa material, Richard asked: “How can I even know how it is to be an ordinary family man when I never have tried it properly?” He stroked his chin and continued: “And I’m pretty sure I don’t regret anything. Not even our wild, young days when we acted before thinking.”

Paul closed his eyes. “To be fair it’s not only once or twice I have questioned this all we are doing. I almost quitted and wanted to seek something else. During the recording of Mutter, I was the closest to quitting the band, I think.”

“Yes, I remember… that.” A shiver ran through his tired spine when Richard recalled the memories from the past - those memories when Paul had been so mad at him he had locked himself into the toilet, refusing to talk - just because they disagreed about their artistic views. Now, the fury between their younger selves felt ridiculous but back then, it had been real. “And I’m sorry for those times,” Richard added with a voice barely audible. “I truly am, but I guess I was just naïve and stupid back in the days.”

“Past is past, we can’t change it anymore. But what we _can_ change is the present, so let’s make it the best we can.”

Paul now sat down and massaged Richard’s thigh that was now covered by baggy sweatpants instead of his tight show clothing. “If we wouldn’t have ever met, who knows how our lives would have been. At least more boring.”

“You are not… mad at me anymore?” Richard asked with a gulp. “I mean, what happened earlier and when I was like that and I don’t know…”

“I wasn’t at any time, you silly,” Paul answered with a smile that dropped as quickly as it had appeared though. “I was just worried about you rejecting me. I didn’t know what was going on. I thought it might have been better to leave you alone, but here I am again.” He let out a burst of dry laughter. “I guess I just can’t resist you, that’s all.”

Richard averted his gaze on the wall. “I’m sorry for everything, it’s just been a bit… rough recently. I guess I’d need a proper vacation after all of this.” He bit his lower lip. 

Not accusing his partner about anything, Paul just entwined his arm around Richard. They embraced each other in silence, their steady breathing in sync.

Paul rested his head on Richard’s shoulder and asked: “What did the woman say to you in the Meet&Greet earlier that made you that upset?” It was the heating question that had been on his tongue since the afternoon’s incidents.

“As you said, the past is past, doesn’t matter anymore,” Richard replied and just waved his hand for the thing that had upset him so much earlier. “She was just some drunken weirdo. I said to our security team to make sure there won’t be intoxicated people next time. I overreacted.” Even though he tried to maintain an easy-going tone in his voice, something inside Richard was still concerned about that cruel fan and her poisonous words. 

_“I’ve always admired you, but this thing between you guys… it’s… it’s fucking_ **_disgusting_** _.”_

The words started to echo in Richard’s weary mind. They were almost like a nasty spell - fortunately, at least that spell hadn’t ruined his concert mood.

Paul sighed and took Richard’s hand. “You are doing it again,” he interrupted the train of thought in the other man’s head.

Blinking his eyes Richard pretended he didn’t know what was going on. “W-what?”

A pair of empathic eyes looked at Richard. “Thinking about something that has deeply touched you and then you act as nothing has happened,” Paul said. “I love you, but I don’t like it when you are not honest with me.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired,” Richard murmured and placed a kiss on Paul’s ear. “Can we think about something else for a change?” 

Paul muttered curse words by himself when Richard was caressing his thigh and getting uncomfortably close to the strategic parts. “Jesus, you are using unfair tactics against me now… I just… just wanted to know what you were... thinking...”

“I like to be unfair with you,” Richard breathed with a husky voice. “Besides, I’m in debt for you being such an ass earlier.”

When Richard was eagerly about to take his lover’s pants off, the other man stopped the hand just in time. “Just promise me one thing,” Paul said.

That resulted in an annoyed grunt from Richard’s side. “Fuck, are you setting terms to me?”

Paul rolled his eyes but got serious in a second. He cupped Richard’s cheeks and asked: “You will never hide anything from me again, okay? You promise to tell me tomorrow when we have rested what concerned you so much earlier today?”

After a brief silence Richard took a deep breath and replied: “Okay, it’s a deal then.” On his features flashed a sly smirk and he proceeded with what he had been trying to do earlier. ”Now, for more interesting topics…”

In no time, Paul’s clothes were tossed on the floor and he was carried to the bedroom with hysterical giggling. 

~***~

It was a bad habit to check your phone right after you woke up, but Richard didn’t care: it was the least of the bad things he was used to doing. Besides, it was his brief holiday so he could do whatever he wanted.

Making sure Paul - who was tightly entwined to him - was still asleep and snoring faintly, Richard stretched his hand and picked his phone from the nightstand. Between the thick curtains, a hint of sunlight was coming out. It was difficult to tell what time it was though.

A bit of browsing and a couple of messages later Richard logged in to Instagram and saw he was tagged in some messages. It was part of their entertainment after concerts to check what fans had said about them, so Richard opened the first post he found under the Rammstein tag.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw whose the account was: that same lady who had attended the Meet&Greet yesterday. _Shit._ With brief stalking of her profile, Richard noticed she was some form of social media influencer, a music enthusiast, and an avid concert-goer who often wrote reviews of concerts for various websites.

But what caught Richard’s biggest attention was a fresh picture of their famous “Paulchard” kiss, taken last night. Under it, was a text that didn’t bother to hide at all what the opinion of this kind of artistic manifestation was for the writer:

_“Through the history of metal, we’ve seen a lot: Ozzy has bitten a bat’s head off, the black metal scene has its own dark satanic past, and so on. These all I can accept: it’s the part of an act, part of the attitude and lifestyle._

_I used to love Rammstein but after meeting them on M &G (btw, they all were super rude, especially the main guitarist. What a cocky asshole! He even destroyed my poster just because I asked him one simple question about his too-close relationship with the other guitarist) and seeing this disgusting stuff presented above (which some morons think it’s ‘so cute!<333’) I’m sad to tell I had to change my opinion. The concert might have been enjoyable without the realization that the two guitarists are apparently fucking each other behind our backs. Yuck. _

_Why does this ‘oh-so-fabulous’ gay love must be presented every single fucking place nowadays? I want the good old times of metal back.”_

Under it was a long comment thread and angry emojis Richard didn’t even dare to look at: his day off was already ruined. What the hell did these ”good old times of metal” even mean?

Richard must have been grunting out loud as it had awoken Paul who was drawing circles to his lover’s back. Richard startled a bit when a raspy tired voice asked: “Morning honey, why are you like that?”

Just throwing the phone on the bed, Richard muttered behind gritted teeth: “You wanted to know, so here’s your answer.” He stood up and took steps towards the kitchen. “I need coffee now.”

With a raised eyebrow, Paul took the phone and read the bitter woman’s rambling. He sneered and shook his head. “Seriously…” He had to look twice at what he had just read. “At least next time she should be more creative than just accusing us from ‘fucking each other’.” Then, he locked the phone and put it on the nightstand. ”Well, she doesn’t know what she is missing. Rammstein can survive without one fan, I don’t mind.”

Richard didn’t answer anything though - he just pretended to be busy with making their breakfast.

Inside him, was a tempest growing - a torment he didn’t like. Old demons, usually who had the accusing voices of his stepdad were coming up to the surface. 

_You are just a fucking piece of shit who won’t succeed in his life._

_Fucking queer, I’m ashamed of you._

Immersed in his own mind more than in the outside world, Richard accidentally dropped a coffee mug from his shaky hands. ”Shit!”

“Richard, are you fine?” Paul asked with a concerned voice that didn’t help at all. “Do you need help with breakfast?”

“I’m absolutely fine and can manage myself, thanks,” was the answer that came way too quickly when Richard took the undamaged mug back from the floor. ”Why are you even asking?”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Have you already forgotten what we promised to each other last night again?”

“Didn’t that already tell you enough?” Richard replied with a cold, nonchalant voice, not bothering to stop what he was doing. “Paul, I’m busy, please don’t start now.”

“But I don’t understand, there has always been hate towards our band and usually it hasn’t made you like this. What’s going on?”

Richard turned around and spread his arms. “It hasn’t made me like anything, I’m doing just fine, thank you. Stop being so nosy!”

“Being concerned about my partner is in your opinion being nosy?” Paul asked and sneered, not believing they were again in this situation. “Excuse me, but--”

“Enough of this shit, for FUCK’S SAKE!” Richard yelled much louder than he had meant to. A hot wave appeared on his cheeks immediately when he realized what he had done. _Again_. “S-sorry…”

They stared at each other in silence for a second, Richard furiously pondering in his mind how he should proceed.

“Paul, I didn’t mean it like that. Please, let me explain...”

“I don’t know what you mean anymore.” With a sigh, Paul rose from the bed and gathered his clothes from the floor, and dressed up in a record time. 

His hand on the door handle, he stated: “Call me when you start being _adult_ enough to start talking to me instead of yelling and being so fucking grumpy all the time.

Have a nice day.”

The door slammed closed, leaving the bemused Richard alone in the huge and now hollow house.

_Fuck._


End file.
